Of all the wives as e'er you know
Yeo-ho! lads, ho! Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho!
There's none like Nancy Lee, I trow,
Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho!
See there she stands and waves her hands upon the quay,
And every day when I'm away she'll watch for me,
And whisper low when tempests blow, for Jack at sea,
Yeo-ho! lads, ho! Yeo-ho!

The sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be,
Yeo-ho! We go across the sea;
The sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be,
The sailor's wife his star shall be!

The harbor's past, the breezes blow,
Yeo-ho! lads, ho! Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho!
'Tis long ere we come back, I know.
Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho!
But true and bright from morn till night my home will be,
And all so neat, and snug and sweet, for Jack at sea,
And Nancy's face to bless the place, and welcome me.
Yeo-ho! lads, ho! Yeo-ho!

The bosun pipes the watch below,
Yeo-ho! lads, ho! Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho!
Then there's a health afore we go,
Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho! Yeo-ho!
A long, long life to my sweet wife, and mates at sea,
And keep our bones from Davy Jones, where-e'er we be,
And may you meet a mate as sweet as Nancy Lee.
Yeo-ho! lads, ho! Yeo-ho!

Oh the Anne Louise is waiting for crew to jump aboard,
to take her out to deeper waters further from the shore,
for it's quiet and still in the harbor, not a voice to be heard in the bay
but the wind's coming down from Norway and there's plenty to be done today.

Oh, cast off me lads, we'll set the sails harding,
'cause she's been gasping for some action out on the open seas,
oh there's nothing quite like pitching along at dangerous speeds,
with my hand on the tiller of my sky blue westerly.

Oh we've coffee and we've bacon and we've everything on board,
so cried the crew: "cast off from this safe haven we've been moored,
for there's salt wind in our lungs boys and salt blood in our veins,
but the wind's coming down from Norway making horses beyond the cranes

Chorus

Oh she may be kind of small but she's got everything and more,
for a crew of hopeless sea-dogs to lose sight of the shore,
oh we may be back in a month or we may be back in a day,
but the wind's coming down from Norway and there's no way that we can stay

Chorus

Oh the Anne Louise has had her fill and now we must away,
to walk upon the shores and share the stories of the day,
oh we may sleep well in our beds tonight and we may not be back here for days,
but the wind's coming down from Norway and our dreams will be on the waves

Chorus (x2)

Don't mind the rain or the rolling sea,
The weary night never worries me.
But the hardest time in sailor's day
Is to watch the sun as it dies away.
It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

The finest ship that sailed the sea
Is still a prison for the likes of me.
But give me wings like Noah's dove,
I'd fly up harbour to the girl I love.
It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

There was a time my heart was free
Like a floating spar on the open sea.
But now the spar is washed ashore,
It comes to rest at my real love's door.
It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

Every time I gaze behind the screws
Makes me long for old Peter's shoes.
I'd walk right down that silver lane
And take my love in my arms again.
It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

Oh Lord, if dreams were only real
I'd have my hands on that wooden wheel.
And with all my heart I'd turn her round
And tell the boys that we're homeward bound.
It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

I'll pass the time like some machine
Until blue water turns to green.
Then I'll dance on down that walk ashore
And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more.
And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more.